Watery Grave of Nimrodel
by Anare Silvermoon
Summary: And when it all came to pass, and he was finally standing in the Grey Havens, he couldn’t say he regretted it. Disclaimer: Don't own LOTR etc.


Watery Grave of Nimrodel

**Watery Grave of Nimrodel**

The sound of rushing water filled his ears as he walked closer and closer to the river of Nimrodel. It made him remember. Remember the song he learned long time ago. The song of a young maiden and her love, Amroth. The song of Nimrodel.

_An Elven-maid there was of old,  
A shining star by day:  
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,  
Her shoes of silver-grey._

His voice echoed quietly across the meadow and as the song carried on, he could swear he saw a young she-elf dancing to the sound of flute. Her white dress giving her a ghostly appearance, but as she danced, white and gold flowers bloomed wherever she went.

_A star was bound upon her brows,  
A light was on her hair  
As sun upon the golden boughs  
In Lórien the fair._

He couldn't see her face, for a light, as strong as that of a star shone above her eyes and the moon seemed to caress her as she continued her dance across the flowers of Laurelindórinan. At least, that's what this place was once called……now it was Lórien, The Golden Wood or even Dwimordene.

_Her hair was long, her limbs were white,  
And fair she was and free;  
And in the wind she went as light  
As leaf of linden-tree._

Dwimordene……such an interesting fact it was that the word _dwimor _meant phantom in the language of rohirrim. That was probably what most of the race of men believed……that the Elves of Lothlórien either hid their kingdom in the webs of lies and magic, or that the whole thing was just a tale and that no elves resided here anymore.

…….fools……. 

_Beside the falls of Nimrodel,  
By water clear and cool,  
Her voice as falling silver fell  
Into the shining pool._

Here…this was one of the last safe heavens in Middle-Earth. One of the few places where neither men nor orcs had any influence, and where the present mingled with past as easily as the waters of Nimrodel. There weren't many places like this anymore. Elves were leaving Middle-Earth and he knew exactly why they were doing this. His people were losing hope in this world and in the people that lived here. Many said that the hope has already been lost and that all elves should leave and let men handle what they brought about. But were they ready to betray them like this? Was _he _ready?

….no…he didn't think so.

_Where now she wanders none can tell,  
In sunlight or in shade;  
For lost of yore was Nimrodel  
And in the mountains strayed._

His voice grew in volume as the word appeared in his mind, followed by memories of his life, his love and his children. At first, their family was happy, but over the years it all fell apart. His daughter married, had her own children and then fell victim to an ambush at the Redhorn pass and sailed away. After she sailed, his wife has never been the same as before. She became obsessed with protecting this land and he could feel she was slowly drifting away from him, succumbing to the power of the ring on her finger. She became cold on the inside and sometimes when he looked into her eyes, he could hardly believe that this was really the woman he married.

_The elven-ship in haven grey  
Beneath the mountain-lee  
Awaited her for many a day  
Beside the roaring sea._

He stopped his pacing and neared the river, bending down and carefully touching the surface of the water. It was cold, numbing even, but it calmed him, the numb feeling spreading from his finger all the way to his mind, letting him, for just a few fleeting moments, forget his thoughts and worries. How he wished for a calmer, simpler life. But as Mithrandir used to say, you don't choose which time you live in. 

_A wind by night in Northern lands  
Arose, and loud it cried,  
And drove the ship from elven-strands  
Across the streaming tide._

Sometimes, he tried to remember the sea. Oh, he'd seen it before. When he tried to remember very hard, he could almost feel the moist wind and taste the salty air in his mouth. But then something snapped in his mind, he blinked and it was all gone, back in the corner of his mind. Somehow he knew he would be the last to sail, to leave this cursed land. Cursed, yes, for that's what it really was, the Dark Lord clutching it in his hand too firmly to ever let it completely go. Even if, in the end, the good people of Middle-Earth won, the scars would be too deep to ever heal.

_When dawn came dim the land was lost,  
The mountains sinking grey  
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed  
Their plumes of blinding spray._

And when it all came to pass, and he was finally standing in the Grey Havens about to board the last ship, he couldn't say he regretted it. Yes, he was happy to leave, to finally see his beloved again, but in the end he could say that they didn't let Middle-Earth down. Many were lost to gain this, but the peace of mind and consciousness for those who lived on would hopefully let the dead rest peacefully. In the end, all was well. 


End file.
